Half Machine, All Warrior
by Dark-Elk
Summary: Zealot/Dragoon fic. Views upon death to Protoss and other such things. Updated to the final chapter, Chapter 3!!! R&R!
1. Chapter 1: The Remembering

My name is Dark-Elk, as you may already know. This story is set in the future, and was written originally about death, but evolved into a story about a Zealot.and a Dragoon, being the unit that can escape death. So, here it is. I don't think I have any unique characters in here, so all I really have to say is that Starcraft is property of Blizzard Entertainment.  
  
Half Machine, All Warrior  
  
Part 1: The Remembering  
  
By: Dark-Elk  
  
Death is something you never really forget. It is a completely unique experience. Like many Terran stories suggest, your life does indeed play itself out before your eyes. Friends, family, comrades, enemies.all can be seen once again, before death claims you. Death is a final experience; the last great, unexplored frontier. And the most unique thing about death is that it can only be experienced once.  
  
At least, for the Terrans, that is. For a Protoss warrior, on the other hand, death is merely a failure upon the path of the Khalai, and the beginning of a new path, a path of rebirth, of strength previously unimagined. Death for a Protoss Zealot, in short, means reincarnation. Reborn.as a Dragoon.  
  
Having never died, you can probably not even imagine the process. Dying, whether of age, disease, or in glorious battle, is the final experience in one portion of your life. After actually dying, your spirit floats in the nether realms of the universe. If you are Terran, or most other species, there is where your spirit remains for eternity and beyond. If, however, you happen to be a Protoss, death is merely the transition between two legs and four.  
  
I can remember my own death quite clearly. One of the numerous, ineffectual assaults upon the Terran Dominion, headed by the son of its creator, Domis Mengsk was the backdrop of my demise. Domis Mengsk, unlike his father, has no tactical ability to speak of. His strategies are almost Zerg-like in nature, involving massive amounts of troops flung haphazardly at a target, in a desperate attempt to overwhelm his opponent. He used this strategy during his attack upon our fortified base on the planet Sena. It should have been an easy rout of his troops; our Reavers had been deployed fully, and our troops were outfitted with the latest technological advances. We had ground, air, and space superiority in every way, shape and manner. His troops would have been slaughtered on the spot.  
  
Then the Hybrids attacked. Specific details are still incomplete, at best. The closest anyone, Protoss or Terran can come, is that a single Hybrid warship entered the area. Not a particularly large cruiser, and certainly not unremarkable in visible power. Our commander knew different. This was one of the most feared Hybrid ships: the Hybrid Chrysalide. A Chrysalide is extraordinarily strong. Plainly put, one has never been significantly damaged, and certainly never near destruction.  
  
An Observor once relayed a transmission from its hidden vantage point near a major Zerg base A Chrysalide had entered the vicinity near a Zerg held planet, right in the epicenter of a massive amount of Scourges. Scourges! Some of the foulest Zerg ever hatched, to be sure. Every single Scourge rammed the Chrysalide in unison in a massive protonic explosion. Body parts and fluids floated throughout the area of space randomly. Finally, after many minutes, the remains cleared enough, and the Chrysalide could be seen again! The Observor had calculated out on-screen, in plain "black and white" as Terrans put it, the approximate number of Scourge hits that were registered.  
  
The New Conclave remained, frozen completely to their chairs, all hopes for victory over the Hybrids totally extinguished. The Chrysalide had taken over 700 direct Scourge hits, and there was no visible damage to the Chrysalide, not even cosmetic! The New Conclave made an instantaneous, unilateral decision later that day. All contact with the Hybrids was to be avoided at all costs. The decision, however, was not completely inspired by the durability of the Chrysalide. Far more horrific was what happened next.  
  
The Chrysalide began moving away from the skirmish zone. All Zerg aerial units seemed to be vectoring towards the Chrysalide, and literally propelling themselves at it, in a desperate attempt to halt its progress. The attempts were to no avail, as the Chysalide continued to close the distance between itself and the Zerg held planet of Talasha. It slowly came to a stop within a fair distance of the planet, and remained. The Zerg continued their reckless assault, and the results were still the same. Then the Observor began registering anomalous energy readings near the Chrysalide, and near Talasha.  
  
Slowly, but steadily, the readings grew in strength. Finally, the Observor managed to manuver enough to relay the situation: the Chrysalide had somehow created a worm hole right next to the planet, and the planet was slowly being devoured. Massive droves of Overlords, fully loaded with all the ground forces transportable fled the planet. But the Chrysalide was not yet finished.  
  
Lances of energy began streaking out from the Chrysalide towards the Overlords and few remaining aerial units. On contact with these, the Overlords exploded, silently spewing forth their cargo. The air units merely exploded, having nothing of value for the Hybrids. The energy beams ceased firing, and other, smaller bolts were fired. The Observor registered these as stun blasts, strong enough to paralyze any Zerg ground unit that may have been rescued. Every ground unit was struck, and ceased their frantic struggling.  
  
And then the most horrific aspect of the Hybrid attack began: reclamation. Hybrid Reaper units began exiting the Chrysalide, and adeptly manuvering near the paralyzed bodies. They fired genetic probes into the flesh of every single Zerg unit that had been saved, programmed to do only two things: first, to collect a genetic sample of the unit and transmit it to the Chrysalide, and second, to detonate on command. The Reapers finished their grisly task, and the paralysis began to deteriorate in strength rapidly. The Reapers entered the hold of the Chrysalide. Then the probes were activated. The screen was completely blanked out with the anti-matter flash, and when they compensation for brightness finally activated, the entire Zerg horde, the Chrysalide, and the planet Talasha were gone.  
  
Not even our most intelligent scientists can postulate anything pertaining to the Hybrids, not how they teleported themselves into the area, not how they survived the staggering amount of damage, and certainly not how they created a wormhole. The fact is that the Hybrids are an indomitable force. Their ground forces can be downed, but only after similarly taking extreme damage.  
  
An in-depth look at the Hybrid units is a foul task, seeing the cruel genetic manipulation used. Quite simply, everything of theirs, their units, their technology, everything, comes from somewhere else. Their lowest level ground units, for instance, seem to be simple combinations between Zerg and Protoss units, while their higher level units, far more stronger psionicly, are combinations of Terran and Protoss units that wield arcane, impossibly strong powers. For that matter, everything about the Hybrids is unknown, and unknowable. From their lowest ground force to their strongest star cruisers, they have powers that neither Protoss nor Terran can imagine. The most impossible power that every Hybrid possesses, is instantaneous teleportation. Although the Protoss Arbiter, with its Judicator pilots can teleport other units, each Hybrid unit can teleport itself anywhere in the galaxy. This power is what makes the Hybrids a near- invincible force. After all, what is the point of building an extensive defensive array when the Hybrid ground forces can teleport themselves right next to the Nexus and destroy all the robotic Probes working there?  
  
The Chrysalide had entered the battle area. Our commander ordered a retreat of all forces almost instantly. Domis Mengsk didn't seem to register the Hybrid ship as a threat, but instead decided to pursue the fleeing Protoss starships, intent upon slaughtering them dishonorably. A full dozen Scouts were lost to the ravenous Wraith packs, and then the remainder reached the Carriers. The Wraiths warily regrouped, and then surged towards the Carriers. That area of space was impossibly bright for the next few moments, but when it cleared enough to be visible, the massive Carriers were all destroyed.  
  
A disparate cry went up from the ground troops, and I soon added my psychic "voice". With the Carriers gone, there was little to stop the Battlecruisers from destroying our base at long range. All hopes of victory lost, we resigned ourselves to death, knowing it would come, and the only difference would be whether from the hands of the Terrans, or the Hybrids. The question was quickly answered.  
  
The Hybrid ship chose that moment to attack, and began pulsating with massive beams of energy surrounding it. Arcs of energy sped towards random targets, and all that struck instantly destroyed their target. The full pack of Wraiths was lost almost instantaneously. Then massive explosions shook the ground, as the Battlecruisers succumbed to the energy blasts. The Terrans managed one final act of defiance, an EMP burst launched at the Chrysalide. The Hybrid craft wheeled towards the Science Vessel, and created a wormhole near it, sucking it into oblivion, towards destinations unknown.  
  
Our forces watched the slaughter, the hatred of the Hybrids rising once again. Anything that could kill that quickly, that effectively must be evil. Then the most surprising event happened. The Terran ground commander offered our base a temporary alliance. Logic prevailed, and we reluctantly accepted, prepared for the inevitable backstab. The Terran commander began transporting every iota of his forces to our base, and quickly reached our perimeter. We let him and his forces in, and soon realized he wasn't planning to turn against us. He truly needed our help, and was honorable. Siege Tanks were positioned around the perimeter, and Bunkers were hastily constructed wherever space was provided. Soon every Marine, Firebat and Medic was part of the defense.  
  
Then the Hybrid attack began. One of the largest attack forces we had ever witnessed appeared to the south of us. It consisted of a total of two- dozen units. They quickly began closing towards our defense. They appeared to have forsaken the tactic of destroying the base from the inside, and instead wished to crush us from outside.  
  
Suddenly, the Siege Tanks began thundering, massive shells fired at distant, nearly invisible targets. Many of them seemed to strike, but the strike force continued on. They closed within range of the Marines, and shells began littering the floors of Bunkers as they set their Gauss Rifles to full-auto. The strike force continued. Finally, they reached the Protoss section of the defense, and the Photon Cannon began discharging their globes of energy. The Hybrids all disappeared simultaneously. There was a deathly silence, as all that had began firing stopped, almost in unison. Then there was a number of screams, both psionically and verbally. We searched, and found that the Hybrids had teleported inside the base. Their proximity to the Siege Tanks made firing impossible, and the Siege Tanks were quickly destroyed. Our High Templar began climbing to higher ground to began Psionic Storms, and our Dark Templar began stalking towards the Hybrids. I gave the order, and I along with the rest of our Zealot forces rushed into battle. We slashed at the Hybrids in a fury, and managed to land some hits upon them, when they turned from attacking the Siege Tanks, and attacked us instead.  
  
You cannot even imagine the slaughter. The Hybrids began creating energy webs around Zealots, and constricting them, slicing the Zealots literally to shreds. I was flung backwards with a psionic blast, and struck the ignited blade of another Zealot. I could feel it tear through my armor, and puncture my skin, and stop right after piercing my lung. My breathing instantly became labored, as I struggled to gain precious oxygen. Terrans have a distinct advantage with two lungs. Protoss, however, have but one.  
  
The Zealot behind me shook me free of his blade, and I fell to the ground in a heap. He knelt beside me, and offered his apologies. I told him, amidst gasps of breath that he was not to blame. He nodded, and stood. He strode forward, towards the line of Hybrids. I watched intently, as he pinpointed one Hybrid, and dove through the air nimbly, and sliced its head off. I congratulated him, for after all even in death his slaying of a Hybrid impressed me. I have never seen one die, and I watched as the Hybrid body collapsed to the ground. The body twitched slightly, and then stilled. My comrade turned away, and searched out another.  
  
Then the body of the Hybrid detonated. Shards of superheated carapace and armor sliced through everything in the radius immediate to the corpse, killing the remainder of the Zealots actively fighting, save one. My comrade managed to evade the blast, but the other Hybrids had noted who had killed their compatriot, and encircled him. One caught him in an energy web, but left him there, suspended in the air, struggling desperately for life. A sadistic laugh ran through the Hybrids. They began to create blades of pure energy in front of them. Once they had all created them, they set to work upon my comrade. I never once averted my eyes in honor of him, and my comrade never once screamed in pain. They peeled off his skin, revealing ligaments and muscles. Then they began to hack off parts of his extremities, his fingers being the first to go. Finally, they sliced him in half through the abdomen, ending his torture. I silently wept throughout, for although I knew he had died a heroic death, he had still died by one of the most painful methods I could imagine.  
  
The Hybrids fanned out, and quickly decimated the remainder of the base, turning the structures into rubble. Then they sent out the genetic probes, to collect our genetic makeup. It wasn't enough for them to slaughter us. They had to kill us, and then clone us to serve them. I have always been infuriated by this practice, and when the probe came alongside my body, I sliced it in half with my Psi Blade.  
  
I lay on the ground for a long time. The Hybrids left shortly after the probes detonated, off to raze another planet to dust. I remember very little of that time, most of which was spent staring at the sky, and lamenting over the loss of my life. I knew my end was near, and with no Protoss near enough to collect my remains, I was in the most deepest despair possible. My powered armor, recently outfitted with survival upgrades, nourished my body intravenously, although I was slowly dieing, and breathing was still a hard task.  
  
Then I felt a powerful mental presence inside my mind, and although I had never felt it before, I knew what it was. A Shuttle had arrived, and was searching for bodies of Zealots. I mentally hailed the Shuttle, and it sped towards me. It landed nearby, and two Protoss technicians exited the craft. They asked me what had happened, and I gave them a quick synopsis. I asked them to remove the remains of my comrade, but when they examined them found his cerebral tissue to still be active. Apparently his suit had somehow saved him from death. I rejoiced, knowing that the most valiant warrior I had ever seen would soon fight again.  
  
The technicians returned, and quickly told me their findings. There were no other living beings on the planet, save my comrade and me. And with my death imminent, it would soon be even less. They asked me what they should do.  
  
I lay, thinking of everything possible. Finally, I ordered them to place my comrade and me in Dragoon exoskeletons. They nodded, having expected this. Most Protoss warriors choose this, to continue to serve the memory of Auir. They huddled towards me, and injected something into my arm. The world went became blurred, and slowly faded into tunnel vision, and finally into blackness. 


	2. Chapter 2: The Rebirth

Half Machine, All Warrior  
  
Part 2: The Rebirth  
  
By: Dark-Elk  
  
Light flooded into my "eyes", as I awoke. Reborn at last. It had been a hellish period, being dead, and unable to see, hear or move. I floated, a mere consciousness in a void of no color, no light, no feeling. Trapped with but my memories of the battle, which seemed as though both minutes and millennia ago. I could not help but weep mentally, as my mind replayed my comrade's heroic death over and over.  
  
I moved my fingers, stretching my body. Nothing happened, as I should have known. I was a Dragoon now, and there were no "fingers". I had manipulators clustered in my midsection that would serve as limbs. My legs flexed, all four of them.  
  
Finally, I rotated my optic viewer around, facing myself. I could see what I looked like now. A mechanical being, at least at first glance. Four segmented legs met at a spherical pod, where my mind rested now. I had manipulators of many sizes and lengths clustered underneath, to keep them from getting in my way. My exoskeleton was a deep golden-bronze, but where the limbs met, it was a deep crimson. I had long admired the Dragoons, for although in death they continued to serve. Now I was one, and it felt much different than I had imagined.  
  
I rotated my viewer around again, facing it towards the technician who had apparently activated me after my "slumber". I inquired as to how long I had been gone, and she smiled. She told me I had been dead for almost a year now.  
  
My mind reeled. A year? What could have possibly delayed my resurrection for nearly a year? I began rapidly questioning the technician. She began explaining all that had happened in the last year. When she was finished, I was unable to move. The war had been quite brutal while I was dead.  
  
Shakuras was gone. It had been completely absorbed into a wormhole during an attack by both the Hybrids and the Zerg. Its current location was unknown, and probably never would be known. The location to where the Hybrids move planets and fleets is still unknown, but it is almost certainly their main base. Once found, it should prove to be a great threat to the entire galaxy.  
  
After Shakuras disappeared, the Protoss fleets in the galaxy had very little in additions, and were steadily being destroyed due to attrition. It wouldn't be long before we totally lost the war, and were forced to withdraw from the conflict.  
  
I slowly began moving again, and then inquired about my comrade. She told me that he had been activated a few days earlier, and was assigned to a battle group on a small Zerg held planet controlled by one of the Cerebrates spawned after the fall of Shakuras. The Cerebrate wasn't very battle-hardened yet, so small groups were striking at it with guerilla tactics. My addition to the group would fill the minimum requirement for a full-fledged attack on the Cerebrate.  
  
I began walking towards the exit. The technician jumped up and positioned herself in my path. She told me that she needed to inform me of my status. I mentally sighed, longing for battle once more to test the limits of my capabilities. It was quite worth my wait, however. She told me I had been outfitted with a technological innovation from our Terran allies that would allow me to cloak, similar to their Ghost's. It would run off my psionic energy, so it could last indefinitely. I began to smile, and then stopped myself. After all, I couldn't smile in this form, sad as it was. I stalked out the door, and onto the Shuttle waiting nearby.  
  
We arrived at the Zerg held planet of Sumner with little incident. We narrowly dodged being dragged into a Dominion-Hybrid conflict, and continued along our way. Upon arrival, I exited the Shuttle, and began to search around. I could see the foul, twisted shapes of the Zerg structures against the horizon, and was able to tell that their primary structure was only in Lair form, preventing them from producing more advanced units.  
  
I scuttled around, until I made contact with the Protoss base, and quickly received an update on the situation. Not much had really changed in the area, save one thing. The Terran Dominion had set up a base a distance away from ours. Our bases were laid out along the rough lines of a triangle, and the space in between was no man's land. Craters and slain warriors lay across the area, strewn as if by a windstorm.  
  
I turned away, and then there was an update. The Terrans had begun to establish another base, and a convoy of vehicles was heavily undefended, save a few Siege Tanks and Marines. I scuttled out of the intelligence center, and slammed directly into my comrade. We quickly got each other up to speed on our lives since dying. Not much had happened since then, except my comrade had seen some battles from the front lines and excitedly told me some of the capabilities of the Dragoon exoskeleton. I noticed that although we had the same model of Dragoon armor, his was a pasty yellow on the coloration area, while mine was still the deep crimson.  
  
We met with a group of about a dozen Zealots who were our accomplices for destroying the convoy. They all treated us with such reverence it made me wonder how I had looked to the Dragoons I had fought alongside before. We grouped together, and headed towards the convoy's last known location.  
  
We arrived quite quicker than I would have figured. I had never really noticed how quickly a Dragoon could move, and now with the cloaking upgrade they could move quite stealthily. I barely noticed the terrain around us, which is a tribute to the Dragoon's design. The highly agile legs allowed us to transverse hills and ditches with little effort.  
  
The Terran convoy could be seen in the distance, merely by the dust the crude treads shunted into the air. I counted four Siege Tanks, and about two-dozen Marines. Quite an easy target for our strike force. I had seen a mere six Zealots take down a similar force. I wondered what the Terran commander was thinking, sending such a convoy through hostile territory.  
  
The convoy reached the top of a hill, and paused for a second. They raised various satellite dishes, attempting to gain intelligence about the area ahead. A door on one of the convoy vehicles opened, leaving a figure to exit. It quickly began setting up some sort of communications station. I realized quickly they were planning on setting the base up near here, and what they were setting up was the beginning of its surveillance network. I conferred with my comrades, and we sent the discovery to our commander. His orders were simple: expunge the Terran station with extreme caution. I activated my cloaking field, as did my comrade. The Zealots were unequipped with such devices, and would serve as ground support and diversions while my comrade and I tore through the station.  
  
We began stalking towards the convoy, and then stopped. We were amazed as we saw the figure who had set the station up disappear, and then the convoy proceeded across the other side of the hill. My comrade asked if I had seen the figure reenter the ground transport. I replied in the negative, as he doubtless already knew. The Terran must have been equipped with a cloaking device. I cursed the Terran with an ancient oath from the Aeon of Strife, and quickly messaged the base for an Observer to be dispatched. It was, but I was told to be cautious with it, as our detachment had only been issued three, and one had already been shot down and the other was undergoing repairs.  
  
We stood still for a short while until the Observer floated overhead. It inched forward until the Terran was visible. The Terran quickly shifted his rifle to his shoulder and fired off a round. The round hit the Observer cleanly, and the Lockdown round proceeded to disable the Observer. Cursing the Terran again, I decided to lead a charge to reach him and attempt to surround him. That was a horrible mistake.  
  
As we charge forward I watched the Terran open fire. A round hit my comrade dead center and the Lockdown blossomed over his Dragoon exoskeleton. I barely had any time to realize what had happened as another Lockdown round struck my exoskeleton. My legs froze and I could feel my sensors dimming until they finally became completely opaque. The various processors and motors on my exoskeleton that ran my life now all ceased, and I was completely blind. I could not even hear the slaying of the Terran who had struck at us with such impudence.  
  
I wafted in the darkness for an indeterminate length of time until the Lockdown finally wore off. My senses were the first thing to return to me, albeit slowly. As I opened my "eyes" again, I wished I had some way to turn them off again. The field in front of me was strewn with the bodies of my fallen brethren, dirt piled over their bodies haphazardly by craters. My comrade was standing next to me, and his Lockdown and mine ended completely. We raised our psionic voices in an outburst of rage and despair. The only reason we had survived was because the Terran who had paralyzed us was killed quickly, thus leaving no other Terrans knowledgeable to our positions. Our gift.our curse: the cloaking fields we had been equipped with. Had they been linked to a power source they would have deactivated when we were hit, but because they were linked to our psionic energy we alone survived.  
  
I turned to my comrade, and told him that I was going to make the Terrans pay for this. Vengeance is not typically embraced by Protoss, but I had never felt so powerless in my life. My comrade stared at me for a few short moments, and then agreed. The Terrans had indeed taken their attack too far. They had dishonored us as warriors and as Protoss. Death was the only cure for dishonor, and only one suitable death was readily available. We would assault the Terran base.alone. 


	3. Chapter 3: The Perdition

Half Machine, All Warrior  
  
Part 3: The Perdition  
  
By: Dark-Elk  
  
We moved very quickly. The Terrans had slaughtered our small attack force, and we could not bear to live with our failure. Suicide isn't an option for Protoss.it never has been. The only deaths a Protoss can receive are natural deaths or those received in battle. We knew very well that our attack would be nothing short of suicide, but we managed to maintain our delusions, telling ourselves we were doing something noble, that we were indeed aiding our Protoss brethren. Not only were we gathering valuable intelligence to use later, we might very well destroy some vital structure, slowing the Terrans down enough to be destroyed. The delusions worked well.  
  
Our Dragoon bodies deftly maneuvered between hills and vegetation. I would miss this body, having waited most of my life to acquire it.only to throw it into one of the most insane battles I ever had. Never in my life had I expected to assault a Terran base with only two Dragoons. We were fully upgraded, but that still gave us a life expectancy of less than three minutes once we came within firing range of the Terran base.  
  
We finally reached a large hill that overlooked the Terran base. I looked down through the darkness at the flickering lights that made up the Terran base. It looked almost insignificant with such few sources of light, but I was wise. I had seen Terran bases in night before. I knew that Terrans frequently make themselves appear weaker than they are to take advantage of an unsuspecting enemy. The Terran that had aided in the slaughter of my force had deceived us well. Bitter at the fresh wound of my failure, I tried to magnify the images I was receiving. I hoped I could find a vital building that we could severely damage or destroy, but knew that the Terran's wouldn't be so foolish as to leave one where it could be easily attacked.  
  
I scanned across the base, slowly acknowledging the structures that were visible. I could see a Barracks, numerous Supply Depots, an Academy, and a Science Facility. Remembering that the Terran that had attacked us earlier had been a Ghost, I surmised that the Science Facility probably had an attached Cover Operations module. That would indeed be a good target. The Science Facility had been foolishly placed near the rear of their base, and the hill we were standing upon would give us an easy entrance.  
  
I asked my comrade what he thought of my plan. He was silent for a few moments, and appeared to be scanning over the base. I was about to ask my question again when he replied. He agreed that destroying the Covert Operations module would be devastating, but instead thought that the Barracks would make a better target.  
  
I looked again at the base. The Barracks was the only one inside the base. If the Terrans were unable to keep the neural resocialization on their troops fresh, some might have various problems, ranging from dementia to hallucinations. If we destroyed it, it would take days for the Terrans to rebuild.enough time to weaken their forces. I agreed with my comrade.  
  
It was just as we prepared to attack that we received an urgent message from the commander of Protoss forces nearby on Sumner. He told us that Hybrid forces had entered the system, and that odd energy signals had been registered at the Zerg base. His message ended as quickly as it had started. We both knew there was nothing we could do to save the Protoss base should it be attacked, and we could both care less whether or not the Zerg base was decimated. The thought of Hybrids in the area filled us both with a mix of dread and rage. We had both been "killed" by the Hybrids.we weren't excited at the prospects for reliving it.because this time there would be no second life to go to. There is nothing past a Dragoon for those slain in battle.except the nocturne of eternal slumber.  
  
We looked over the Terran base one last time, evaluating to assure ourselves we had done everything possible to prepare for our attack. The silence of the base was what was intriguing me, because it shouldn't have been quiet, even this late at night. Terran bases are like the Terrans themselves: always moving quickly and often inefficiently. The silence grew maddening, until finally I told my comrade to begin moving towards the base. We both activated our cloaking fields and began surging towards the base.  
  
We scuttled over the terrain, craters and heaps of dirt caused by explosive shells making the land difficult, but not impossible, to cross. I began scanning around in front of us for heat emissions, looking for anything that would signal an ambush or trap. I could see Bunkers off to the sides of us, but there was a clear path down the middle.an obvious place to mine. I stopped shortly with my comrade behind. I scanned again and this time found very low frequency signals passing through the area before us. I told my comrade I thought there was a minefield in front of us, possibly heuristic.  
  
Heuristic minefields are perhaps the greatest defense ever created. They consist of mines spread across fields, not to dissimilar to a Vulture's Spider Mines. Heuristic mines, however, consist of a small onboard computer and communicator, enabling them to communicate with each other. If a Zergling runs into a massive field of Spider Mines, most of the mines will detonate simultaneously, leaving a massive hole in the field to be exploited. With heuristic mines, however, only one would rise and detonate, therefore leaving the remainder of the field intact. Heuristic mines can be of many varieties, although basic shrapnel explosives are the most common. Other varieties included Lockdown and EMP mines, both deadly to Protoss forces. I knew there was little we could do about the minefield without the Terrans discovering us. I finally ordered the only possible option: begin firing and charging.  
  
We opened fire with our Phase Disruptor, firing directly at the ground in front of us, hoping vainly our fire would disable any mines in front of us long enough to pass. The mines didn't seem to be rising, so that had been successful. However, Phase Disruptors are both loud and bright, so the Terrans on guard duty now knew we were attacking. Brilliant spotlights flashed onto us from every direction, following our every move. The Marines strolling along the perimeter of the base darted into Bunkers with Gauss Rifles in hand to open fire. The Siege Tanks appeared to be inactive, although they could be waiting until we were closer for a more accurate shot.  
  
Continuing to charge forward, rifle fire stuttered through the dirt and vegetation around us. Occasionally we would be struck, but the shields defending us handled the scattered fire with ease. We approached the base, nearing the entrance. The gunfire began to pour forth from all sides, but for the most part we were missed completely. I told my comrade to begin firing at the Barracks to complete our objective while I kept the Terrans at bay. We needed to finish quickly before a Ghost came and fired Lockdown round at us, keeping us from a victory.  
  
I turned slightly and began picking targets. As I scanned, I could hear my comrade as he began to target vital points on the Barracks, striving for maximum damage. I spotted movement and fired. I could see from the brief illumination that I had struck what seemed to be a Ghost. My shot managed to sever his left arm from his torso, and he slumped to the ground. I scanned again, this time spotting a small squad of Marines trying to set up a firebase from the hill to the right of us. I opened fire wildly at the Marines, more to scare them and slow them down than to actually hit them. I needed only to by time for my comrade, not destroy the base by myself. I continued to fire at the Marines. Then the ground began to shake underneath me.  
  
I turned to see half of the Barracks slough downward, the metal hot from being superheated. Communications devices on the top were slowly melting, obviously unusable. I congratulated my comrade, knowing he had just acquired a meaningful death for us. He turned, fired a quick shot at the Marines on the hill, and told me that he thought we should continue into the base. I agreed, for we already knew we would die. Doing more damage would only help out our base.  
  
We began to retreat deeper into the base, with our "backs" as we used to think towards the base. We continued to pour fire at the rest of the defenses. Out of nowhere, my entire body suddenly flipped over almost halfway to straight up. A deafening roar blasted into the various devices that performed auditory functions for the Dragoon exoskeleton, and a blaze of white completely covered the ocular sensors. I slowly recovered, with my body automatically righting itself. I continued backward until it happened again. I finally realized what was happening. I quickly gave my comrade the order to scatter on my signal, hopefully confusing the gunners of the Siege Tanks that were pummeling us. Just as I was about to give the signal, everything fell silent.  
  
The reloading of the Siege Tanks, the rifle fire of the Marines, and the myriad other sounds that accompany a battle were cutoff completely. We stopped and stood still, and then heard a bloodcurdling Terran scream. A body was flung through the air, clearly ravaged by some form of energy. I quickly came to the conclusion I most disliked, but knew was right. The Hybrids were attacking the base.  
  
I knew that even with our Dragoon exoskeletons, we were little match for the Hybrids. With the speed and frequency I could hear Terran screams start and end, I guessed there were most likely massive amounts of Hybrids here, more than had ever attacked a planet. It only took one quick glance at a scanner to know I was correct. I felt a deep sorrow for the Terrans. They shouldn't have attacked us, because our vengeful strike upon the base had left the Terrans unprepared for the Hybrid attack.  
  
I stood dumbfounded as the hideous forms of the Hybrids darted around the base, viciously slaying any Terran they came upon. We were left alone, although I knew they had seen us. Apparently we were to be entertainment after the base was decimated. My comrade quickly told me he wasn't going to be killed by the Hybrids again. I agreed as quickly. Our noble victory had been stolen from us, leaving us the sole witnesses to a massacre, soon to be slain for the amusement of the Hybrid forces. Dark rage slowly built throughout my body as I scanned around the base, watching everything that happened. I could see the Science Facility slowly collapsing, the Covert Operations module slowly following. I could see the Command Center being attacked, but only half-heartedly. Buildings were cleanup work for the Hybrids, something to be done once everyone was dead or dying. Suddenly, I glanced back at the Command Center and cursed loudly. My comrade asked what I had seen, but my response was to begin walking.  
  
I walked over to the Command Center, stepping around the bodies of the Terrans. I could see the monolithic structure of the Command Center looming in front of me as I walked closer to it, my comrade in my wake. I rounded the Command Center, and discovered what I knew must be there.the Nuclear Silo. My comrade stopped in surprise, and began laughing. I laughed softly along with him, knowing what we would do. I didn't need to tell my comrade what was needed.  
  
We stepped closer until we could feel the side of the Nuclear Silo. We searched for a door that would allow us entry, or at least a weak point to create our own door. We found one on the opposite side. I looked back at my comrade one last time, his nobility readily apparent. He knew his role, as I knew mine. I stepped inside, and closed the door.  
  
I charged through the maze of the Nuclear Silo, trying to find the important room I needed. Suddenly my mind was struck full-force by a massive psionic cry. I could feel most of the Hybrids in the area stop their attack and begin to move towards my comrade, deeming him a greater threat. I scuttled around a corner and came upon the door I wanted: "Danger: Fissile Material Inside-DO NOT ENTER!". I didn't heed the warning on the door and blasted the door. I stepped inside the small room, barely enough to fit my body. I spotted the prize I had been searching for, gleaming dully on a rack. I extended one of my grippers to grasp it and dragged it over to my body. I began rapidly working the controls, glad that this wasn't dependent on a password. Finally, I came to the correct settings. I messaged my comrade, bidding him farewell and luck in the next life.  
  
I didn't receive an answer, because at that point his psionic scream of death racked my brain. I dropped my prize, and it rolled away. I heard at the entrance of the Nuclear Silo the door being torn from the side. Apparently the Hybrids had probed my comrades mind.not that it would save them. I darted a claw towards my prize again and secured it, raising it once again under my robotic abdomen. I put my other claw directly over the button. This time, I wouldn't die in the darkness. This time, it would be light.the strongest, most powerful light imaginable. Bright enough to eliminate even the Hybrids, harbingers of destruction as they were.  
  
A Hybrid rounded the corner, a high-level psionic. He quickly spotted me and began to dash towards me. I smiled at him, waiting for the right moment. He reached the entrance to the room, and I stabbed my claw onto the button.  
  
The light was bright indeed.  
  
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_- _  
  
The Aftermath-  
  
The subsequent nuclear devastation of hundreds of detonating warheads wrought upon the remains of the Terran base destroyed the entire force of Hybrids. Every Terran was destroyed, although every one was dead.  
  
Both the Zerg and the Protoss bases had fallen. Sumner was completely dead, a miles deep crater on one side the only evidence that there had ever been any life upon its surface.  
  
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_- _  
  
Once by Darkness, Once by Light. The Dragoon knew that when it came to Destruction  
  
Although Darkness was strong  
  
Light was also great,  
  
And as such would suffice.  
  
No, I can't write poetry worth a damn. I happen to like Robert Frosts "Fire and Ice", and this can be considered an abbreviated adaptation. Don't bother telling me this is bad, I already know. I just felt that to end this tale, I should with a bang, which I suppose I did.  
  
This story was a challenge to write, because writing about death is something every author attempts, but in my opinion fail miserably at. The only reason I think I did better than most is that I wasn't writing about a final end.instead it was a new beginning.  
  
For those of you who read this in its nascent stages, I thank you.  
  
For those of you who just discovered this, I thank you.  
  
For those of you brave enough to criticize my work, I thank you.  
  
For those of you kind enough to praise my work, I thank you.  
  
For those of you yet to read.I'm sure you fit into one of these categories.  
  
Catch you all on the flip side, and check out my other works.  
  
Fight on, Dark-Elk 


End file.
